From the Old World: Abnormal Days, A Side

"I'm not going to let anyone else die, Mitsuzi-kun. But I've gone far too long, hiding. I need someone to trust me. Even if the whole world knows, as long as you're the only one here who does, I think that'll be fine. Even with Tachibana gone, something strange, someone strange, is still here."

As he stood in the underground region, Ichijou Mitsuzi's eyes remained locked on the corpse impaled on the tall, steel Spire in the center of the Mall complex. Uzatei Kotetsu had long since moved on, pacing about the area, no doubt on the lookout for clues as they waited for the others to arrive.

The first ones to show up were Nagasaki Ayumi and Minami Fuyuko, coming up from above, having entered from the Third Level entrance to the Mines. As they approached, Minami's mouth opened in question, but her voice was drowned out by the announcement, "Attention please, a body has been discovered. In a few short hours, the Class Trial will begin. Investigate thoroughly, Students!"

Minami closed her mouth, before muttering, "Well, I suppose that answers that question..." Looking up at the corpse, she muttered, "That must be...Ishihara?"

Ichijou didn't respond, his eyes locked onto the corpse until Nagasaki lightly tugged on his arm, asking, "Ichijou-san?"

Brought back to his senses, Ichijou turned to see Nagasaki, her face conveying a bit of worry. Ichijou gave a weak smile, insisting, "I-I'm fine..." Apparently satisfied with his answer, Nagasaki nodded, turning away.

A few minutes later, Furugori Yasuo and Saruta Bimaru came down from above, dressed in their slightly heavier winter gear. Furugori recoiled in shock as he saw the corpse in its grisly position, but he didn't have a moment to mourn.

Monokuma stepped in, giggling, "Upupupu, well, let's be honest, it wasn't going to get much more brutal than those last two, but points for trying!" Looking at the corpse, he gasped, "Oh man, Ishihara was Gold Dragon! Sorta probably. I mean, there were only like, two or three people it could have been, is anyone even surprised?" Not letting anyone come up with an answer, he passed out the next Monokuma File, numbered at five.

As everyone took theirs, Monokuma frowned, tears appearing in his inhuman eyes as he muttered, "I can't believe it...as much as it pains me to say, this could be the last Trial! I'll miss watching you idiots bicker about stupid stuff that's totally obvious." His grin widening, Monokuma wiped away his tears, laughing, "So, with that in mind, let's make this a good one!" His exposition complete, Monokuma left the Students alone to their final investigation.

Holding the white File in his hands, Ichijou began, "Okay, what first..."

Nagasaki muttered, "I'll watch the body."

Furugori added shakily, "Er, I'll h-help." Nagasaki gave him a curious look, but Furugori turned to Ichijou, a serious expression on his face as he asked, "But first, where's that computer!?"

Ichijou frowned, grumping, "Isn't this more important?"

Furugori grumbled, "I know, but I want to check it out! I won't be doing anything other than staying here, so it should be fine."

With a sigh, Ichijou nodded, "Fine, fine. It's in the Hot Spring locker area." Furugori had bolted off towards the Mine the moment he said 'Hot'.

With a grunt, Minami muttered, "Very well. Shall we get started?"

Uzatei looked over, suggesting, "Shall we partner up, Minami-san?"

Minami snorted, "I think it would be more worthwhile to go it alone this time. There are so few of us, and too much ground to cover." Uzatei frowned at the rejection.

With an uncaring shrug, Saruta replied, "I see no reason why not." Ichijou gave a simple nod in response.

Stepping back from the corpse, Ichijou pried open the Monokuma File, giving it a read. Looking over the diagram, it was dotted with several blood colored spots. The largest was in the center of Ishihara's torso, where he was impaled. As for the others, one on his right hand, one horizontally across his back, crossing over the impalement gap, and a few spots on his head and arms in particular. The File itself read:

The Victim, Ishihara Jouji, was discovered in the Underground Mall Complex at 7:45 AM. They were killed at 2:23 AM.

The Victim has a number of signs of blunt trauma on their arms and head. They were punctured through the torso. They have one long bruise across their back. They have a cut across their right palm. There are no other wounds on the body.

Grimacing at the grisly nature of his injuries, he wondered how it all happened. However, he had to give the body a look somehow. Unfortunately, Saruta and Uzatei were already at work, so Ichijou decided to move along for now, leaving Nagasaki to observe the others.

As he headed down the Mall complex, he had no idea where to begin. There were so many stores that any of them could have had evidence. However, as he walked, one caught his eye. It was not only the occupant searching it either; it was more of a wreck then it had been when Ichijou passed it yesterday: in fact, he was pretty sure it hadn't been a wreck at all.

Stepping in to the Replica Archery Store, he took a look around. The middle parts of the room were filled with racks, from which hung black hakamas and other uniform pieces, including a number of gloves. The walls held grated racks with arrows horizontally displayed. There were also stands displaying bows, but about half of the displays had been knocked down, blood splattered at points on some of the racks, but two that seemed to stick out was one on the countertop near a register and another at the bottom of one of the arrow racks, the lower most arrow on the ground, split in half, a bit of blood staining the center.

Noticing his presence, Minami noted, "Quite a mess in here..."

Ichijou wondered, "Someone was going crazy alright. But where'd the blood come from?"

Looking at the arrows, Minami suggested, "Perhaps he cut his hand? Or rather, he did cut his hand, but here is where it happened." Ichijou nodded, unable to disagree. Minami said, "Hopefully we'll figure more out soon. Why was Ishihara down here? Why bring destruction to this otherwise non-notable storefront?"

Being reasonable, Ichijou suggested, "He would have been fighting someone out to hurt him, right? Or someone he felt was a villain."

Minami shook her head, pointing out, "If he was even Gold Dragon at all." As Ichijou gave her a flabbergasted look, Minami sighed, "Disregard me. Feel free to make your own judgments, but someone who hid is identity for this long...we cannot even know if Gold Dragon is real. If it were simply a persona created out of wish fulfillment for this Game."

Feeling bitter that she was speaking like that about Ishihara, Ichijou mumbled, "There's that imagination again."

With a grunt, Minami snorted, "As I said, feel free to make your own judgments." Turning away, she left Ichijou on his own, going back to the Mall proper.

Now on his own, Ichijou took a look around, trying to find any more clues. He came up empty, but behind a glass display window on the side of the countertop, he did see something that caught his eye: a small, plastic bin of hair ties. Thinking of Kirigiri and her 'Detective Mode', Ichijou slipped behind the counter, picking out a black one, using it to bind back his shaggy black hair. Looking around, he found a small mirror, using it to give himself a look. He was briefly taken aback, not used to his forehead and brown eyes being so easily visible. Ignoring his looks, he tried to simply think: it might have been association, but he felt like he was focusing a bit more on the case. Taking another look around, he saw the archery gloves, but decided it wasn't worth it, as they left his fingers bare anyway. Plus, he didn't want to feel like he was aping Kirigiri. He only wanted the girl's help, so he took it in whatever way he could think to.

Stepping outside, Ichijou went back down, reaching the last storefront before heading back up, having seen nothing of note. As he got higher up in the Mall, he saw that Saruta and Uzatei had left the corpse, freeing Ichijou up to give it a look. As he approached, however, something caught his eye: the closing of a door in one of the ruined cafés. Putting the corpse investigation on hold for another movement, Ichijou headed that way, going past broken cups and tables, opening the door and heading in.

Though the outside was dirty, the back passage was worse. It was like a tunnel of ugly black bricks, pipes running about in disorderly patterns. Some of them didn't seem to lead anywhere either. Uzatei was examining them, standing back as he looked them over. Noticing Ichijou, he gave a curt nod, adding, "A new look? Well, it's a step in the right direction. A short one." Ichijou gave a quick laugh, but didn't respond, having a case to get too.

Looking around a little more, Ichijou saw a pipe lying on the ground, fairly lengthily and slightly bent. Picking it up, her tried to fit it to the hodgepodge of pipes on the wall. He managed to get close at one point between two open ends, but came up about a centimeter short. As he pulled it away, Uzatei interrupted, "No, I think that's it. The pipe is bent a little, see? If it were perfectly straight, I imagine it would fit quite perfectly."

Nodding, Ichijou replied, "Yeah, that's probably it. So it came from here, but when did it come off? And how was in bent?" Uzatei had no answer.

Putting it back down of the ground, Ichijou saw something else that caught his eye: a few white pieces of plastic. Approaching, he fiddled with the shards, wondering if they could fit together. Uzatei suggested, "I believe those are from Ishihara's mask. I'd check myself, but I have no idea where to start in piecing them together. Plus, I'd rather not move anything from the crime scene."

Ichijou nodded in understand, "I get it. It shouldn't be too important. We know he got his mask broken here, and we know something happened in the Replica Archery Store too."

Uzatei thought for a moment, before nodding, "Well, I'll have to give that one a look. Thank you for the hint." With an adjustment of his glasses, he made his out of the backroom; no doubt off to continue his own investigation. Ichijou gave the room one more scan, but saw nothing of note and decided to head out himself.

Moving out the door, he stepped through the café, nearly tripping over a squared metal rod of some sort. Stepping outside properly, he once again gazed up at the body...why was he putting it off? He knew he needed to get some form of evidence off of it, but...

Thinking that maybe some cool air might level his head, he made his was up and out, his body starting to shiver almost as soon as he reached the top of the ladder to the Observatory. Rubbing his arms, to warm himself up, he looked around, surprised at how chilly it was despite being in a closed building. With no chance of going down to the Third Level from here, he began to go back to the ladder, but something black caught his eye. Heading over to the corner of the Observatory, he saw a black cloth stashed away, bundled up. Remembering Ganaha's fur coat, he approached cautiously, reaching it and gently moving it. Sure enough, he saw a flash of blood coloration in the inner part of the garb, which appeared to be a black hakama. Fanning it open a bit more, be tried to wonder how it got here. As he looked it over, he happened to spot something in the folds: a small, white piece of plastic. Remembering the backroom, he guessed it was another part of Gold Dragon's mask.

Unable to stay up on the Fourth Level for very long, Ichijou replaced the hakama before heading back down on the ladder, being glad to return to the more temperate level below. Moving on with his investigation, he passed by the top of the Spire once more, ignoring Nagasaki's eye on the back of his head, the girl no doubt wondering where he was going.

Passing the rest of the Mall stores, he saw nothing out of place that he hadn't noticed before. Trying to tie locations to crime scenes, he decided on checking the Storage Units, hoping he could find something of note there. As he walked over to the steel door to the Mines, he frowned as he felt something at the bottom of his naked foot, hardened by the constant battle against the ground. Lifting his foot, he looked deep into his sole, flexing his foot, only to see a small, white piece of plastic fall down. Leaning down and picking it up, he was hardly surprised as to what it was. He'd have to give that mask a look...later.

Leaving the plastic on the ground, he continued on his way, going through the Mines to the Ground Level, then back up to the First. Crossing the humid area, he reached the Storage Units, giving them a look. However, nothing of note came up.

With no other location to search coming to mind, he figured he shouldn't be putting off the body examination anymore, and began to head over. As he passed by the Lodges, however, he thought he saw something moving in one of the windows. Getting a bit closer, he found himself in front of the Lodge building second from the right, next to the two empty ones. Getting a glimpse at the name on the upper level of the Lodge, he saw that it was Ishihara's.

Heading up, he reached the door, knocking. To his surprise, it opened with his touch, and he peeked in. standing in between the entrance and the doorway was Saruta, who looked up at Ichijou, nodding in greeting, "Hello there."

Unsure as to why the Surgical Assistant seemed to have no qualms about snooping, Ichijou asked, "What are you doing here?"

Saruta replied promptly, as if to dissuade suspicion, "Monokuma allowed entry: I was curious as to if Ishihara left anything behind. I am not one hundred percent convinced of his identity. Nothing against him, of course, but the possibility of the Culprit dressing him like the hero should be considered."

Ichijou frowned, but didn't reply to that directly. Changing the subject, he asked, "So, have you found anything?"

Saruta shook his head, "Very little surprisingly enough. There was a rather distressing note, however." Eyes widening in curiosity, Ichijou followed in silence as Saruta led him to the bedroom proper, where two things were out of place, both on top of the dresser: one was a knife, covered in plastic, and the other was a piece of paper. Picking up the note, Saruta turned and handed it to Ichijou, allowing him to read it.

Mitsuzi-kun.

Furugori-kun.

Minami-san.

Nagasaki-san.

Saruta-san.

Uzatei-san.

I'm tired.

I'm tired of watching everyone die, and being helpless.

I'm tired of remaining silent as our foe continues to plot and scheme against us, and bring us to fight each other in desperation. So I intended to take the fight to them.

But if you're reading this, then I failed. I was somehow beaten, and killed, or at best rendered incabable. I only hope that one of you thought to find this note and show the others. Even if I failed, my death only gives you further opportunity to live. More food to go around, right?

The next case should be child's play, but with Monokuma's complete power, I can't be sure he won't muddle with things. I can't even know if any of this is real.

But whatever is truth, and whatever is a lie, you must live.

Do not trust them, no matter what.

Stay well.

-Super High School Level Justice, Wind of the East, Gold Dragon, Ishihara Jouji

As Ichijou read and reread the note, Saruta brought up a couple points, wondering aloud, "Who is 'them'? Why was he so sure he knows who we're up against?"

Remembering what Saruta said earlier, Ichijou grumbled, "How does this not prove he's Gold Dragon!?"

Saruta shook his head, "I didn't not say I didn't believe he was, simply that I was not a hundred percent sure. Ishihara Jouji was a good man, one I can visualize behind the mask of Gold Dragon, but if Gold Dragon is not the person we think he is, hiding in the shadows, rarely doing more than causing trouble...would a good man do that?"

Ichijou felt a chill run down his spine as he remembered Gold Dragon's words on the night in the Cabin. Saruta had a point, but Ichijou put it aside, insisting, "He had his reasons!"

Saruta frowned, noting, "I understand that he was your friend, but that doesn't mean you should assume he his fully trustworthy. Even the best of men can make mistakes, or be manipulated. Look no further than the events that transpired last night." At the hurtful words, Ichijou felt his lips spread into an ugly snarl as he gritted his teeth. Realizing his mistaken words, Saruta swallowed, muttering, "I'm...sorry, I misspoke."

Calming down a bit, Ichijou replied sourly, "No, it's fine."

Unconvinced, Saruta extended a hand to Ichijou's shoulder, reasoning, "Ichijou-"

The Luckster slapped his hand away, leaving Saruta a bit wounded. His face quickly became as placid as ever, and Saruta simply looked away, as if to keep searching the empty room. Ichijou left the note, turning and leaving.

However, he did not return to the Mall. His path took him down the row of Lodges to his own, where he entered, closing the door behind him.

After standing next to the closed door for a few seconds, he roughly grabbed the hair tie that bunched together his short hair, ripping it out, tossing it and a few strands of black hair aside. The pain from tearing a few bits of hair out only set him off more. Grabbing the bottom of the chair near the doorway, he flipped it over, causing it to crash against the wall, one of the legs cracking. Ignoring it, he made his way to the bedroom, stomping down a pile of books with his heel, sending them sliding across the floor. Reaching his bed, he tore the mattress from it, flinging it into the near wall before grabbing his bed frame, flipping it up, the wood gouging into the wall a tiny bit. Turning around, he grabbed one of the books on the ground, the subject on notable battles in history, holding it up and ripping out a handful of pages.

He was tired.

Tired of the death, tired of the smell of blood, tired of rereading the poem, tired of Monokuma and Despair, tired of not knowing if he'd be alive tomorrow, tired of losing his newfound, yet dear friends. And to top it all off, he'd just snapped at Saruta, who certainly didn't deserve it.

As he continued his rampage, he grabbed yet another book, this one a mystery novel, one Kirigiri had been reading. As he made to grab for its pages, he noticed that one of the pages had a corner folded in, marking the place where Kirigiri had stopped reading it. She hadn't finished it, and Ichijou was about to take out his frustrations on the innocent novel.

Staring at the tome in silence, he muttered shakily, "What am I doing..." Dropping the book, he let his legs give way, plopping onto the ground. Slumping, he sat there in thought. What would the others have thought if they'd seen him like this? They trusted him with their lives by voting alongside him in the Trial. They looked up to him, sought him for help at times. Saruta was fond of him, Nagasaki relied on him, Minami used his words and advice to avoid her desire for freedom, Ishihara went to him about his identity before all others, Furugori and Uzatei were open to him.

But it was all backwards. They weren't finding support from him; it was Ichijou who relied on them. Gold Dragon's patrols made Ichijou hopeful that they were safe at night, and the only murders during that time were Ganaha's, when Ishihara was forced to get a good night's sleep, and his own, where he had challenged their mysterious opponent. Minami and Saruta were invaluable in the last Trial, their wit hard to match. Despite her failings and weaknesses, Nagasaki helped Ichijou believe that anyone could improve. Furugori was just as trustworthy as he. Uzatei was also an honest person, even if a bit sour at times.

As Ichijou sat in his Lodge, slumped, he found himself pressed by the weight of this massive ordeal on his back, his base philosophies feeling weak and useless. Walls relying only on each other would not stand, and Ichijou was starting to crumble.

Was this...

Despair?

Letting out a hollow laugh, Ichijou ran his hands over his face, trying to find some light, imagining what Kirigiri or Ishihara might say.

As he thought of his two friends, no longer with him in this world, he lay back on his behind, his eyes on the ceiling. The pit in his stomach seemed grow as he realized how pathetic he was. As much as he was moping about his burden, weren't Kirigiri's and Ishihara's even greater?

Kirigiri Kasumi had to contend with her lack of memories. Despite being unable to remember the experiences that made her who she was, she did her part in tackling the puzzles that they were confronted with, Trial and mystery alike.

Ishihara Jouji was surrounded by enemies, and no doubt fought in countless, difficult battles. After spending so long in hiding, if only to maintain some level of trust between his normal identity and the others, he finally struck back at their captors.

But they were able to do that by using Ichijou as support, weren't they?

But they had died. It hadn't been enough. Ichijou wasn't supporting them. His contributions towards Trials were based on luck, hopeful prayers, and whatever pitiful amount of logic he could muster. His aid in making things safer was to sit back and do nothing.

Ichijou couldn't let that happen again. Even if the others found support in a lie, someone not nearly as hopeful or reliable as they wanted, he had to lie, didn't he? As flimsy as it was, he was still a support to them. He had to lie to them, or they might crumble as well.

Propping himself on his elbows, he flipped himself over, struggling to his feet like a baby. He screamed at himself mentally, 'You can do this. You can solve everything. You can combat the Despair and dispense Justice.'

If he didn't seem believe it himself, how could he convince his friends otherwise?

Finally reaching his feet, he stepped over his wreck of a room with a manic gleam in his eye, reaching the bathroom. Washing his face and getting some water, he finally felt a little refreshed.

Heading outside, he broke into a jog as he headed back down, going through the Auditorium and Mine to the Mall. He didn't dare think about how much, or how little, time he had remaining. Finally reaching the bottom of the Spire, he steadily made his way back up. By the time he reached the top, he was winded, the jog up the mountain taking more out of him than he'd hoped.

Trying to catch his breath before he finished his investigation, he walked over to Nagasaki, who watched as Furugori worked slowly, stiffly, and quietly on the black computer. Hearing Ichijou approach, Nagasaki looked at him quizzically, before saying quietly, "You're hair isn't tied up..." Ichijou smiled awkwardly, but ultimately ignored her.

Crouching down by Furugori, Ichijou asked, "So, find anything neat?" As he got close to the Computer Engineer, he noticed he was a little sweaty.

Furugori waved him down, before hissing in his ear, "Hey, Ichijou-san, I can't work in these conditions."

Ichijou frowned, before replying, "Sorry, I'll just-"

Furugori shook his head, whispering, "No, not you, her..."

Starting to understand, Ichijou nodded, standing back up. Turning to Nagasaki, he asked, "Er, hey, Nagasaki-chan. I'll stay and watch the body with Furugori-san. You wanna do a little investigation? We don't have a lot of time." Quickly pointing a few things out, he said, "That café there has a backroom where some things happened, and there's an Archery Store lower down." Nagasaki blinked at him silently, before shrugging and heading off.

As soon as she was out of earshot, Furugori let out a sigh of relief. He muttered, "I just get so tense when some people watch me work..." Clearing his throat, he flipped over the laptop, showing Ichijou a label on the bottom. He began, "Looking this over, I recognize some of the terms as computer companies, but a lot of the serial numbers and model numbers are useless to me. However, it does say it takes much less power than any modern computer, which is probably why it can run on a battery instead of needing to be plugged in. Also, despite being smaller than any modern computer, if it really can display video, that means it's much more powerful too. It doesn't make any sense though, video doesn't work that way, the screen's way too narrow for starters. I need to give it a look inside."

As Furugori pulled a small screwdriver out of his pocket, Ichijou wondered, "How good is it compared to yours?" A tense, competitive look crossed over Furugori's face as he went to work, not doubt wanting to find out much more than Ichijou did.

Leaving him to his work, Ichijou stepped away, heading to the Spire at long last. Being very careful, he stepped onto the flat, metal streams connecting the Spire to the walkway. Gently easing his way forward, he continued until the stream reached the Spire, the metal only as wide as his bare foot. Looking up at the body, he recoiled as he came face to face with the mask of Gold Dragon, nearly losing his footing.

Taking a breath to steady himself, he gave the body a closer look. As the File said, his torso was clearly impaled. However, getting a closer look at his cut right hand, the glove missing, he realized that it had been the one used in the last murder, somehow stolen by Tachibana. That girl had likely had the whole Resort in the palm of her hands. However, as Ichijou looked at the blood stained hand, he wondered how it was cut. The Archery Store was the only real option, given the mess.

Continuing his search, he grimaced as he gingerly rolled up Ishihara's sleeve, finding the blunt trauma indicated on the File, taking the form of long, straight bruises. Leaning over, he saw the other arm, the sleeve already rolled up, the skin also bruised. However, he could help but notice, despite the slight amount of distance, the bruises seemed to be a bit larger, though still straight on the edges.

Lastly, Ichijou gave the mask a close look: two gold horns, red markings for sharp, intense eyes, a few lines around the extended muzzle to resemble teeth. Ichijou couldn't help but notice that the lines were drawn poorly. Shaking his head, he focused on the edge: on the right side of Ishihara's face was a bruise, revealed by the missing pieces of the solidly colored mask.

With one last, careful breath, Ichijou reached his hand out, removing the mask. He frowned as he looked over Ishihara's face, the muscles limp, his eyes rolled back, his mouth hanging open. His head hung back, pointing to the ground, yet blood had leaked from his mouth, staining his chin and lower lip.

Ichijou nearly lost his footing again as a bugle began to play, followed by the dreaded announcement, "Excuse me, your attention please! It is now time for the Class Trial. I hope you've studied! Please, make your way to the Courtroom Elevator Door on the First Level with haste. See you soon~"

Taking yet another steading breath, Ichijou replaced the mask, before saying, "I'll find your killer, Jouji-kun."

Stepping away from the Spire, he returned to Furugori, who looked troubled as he stood from the partly disassembled computer. As they began to head down, Furugori simply kept muttering, "It just doesn't make any sense...how...it looks so cheap, but..." Ichijou swore he could see smoke coming out of the shorter boy's ears, he was so perturbed.

Taking the winding path down, the two reached the First Level, heading over to the Courtroom Elevator, where Nagasaki, Minami, Uzatei, and Saruta stood. As Furugori and Ichijou entered the Elevator, there was mostly silence, the current Students tense for the last Trial with so little evidence to use. With a shudder, the grate closed, and it began to rumble as it headed downwards. The trip down seemed to last forever, the air tense and silent. Ichijou had little to do but go over evidence, thinking about the corpse again.

Ishihara Jouji: well-meaning boy and daredevil, Ishihara passionately did what he could to keep the other Students from succumbing to the incentives and each other. Under the guise of Gold Dragon, he acted against their captors, but his actual results were scant, yet no doubt more than Ichijou's. Someone had killed him. Someone in this very Elevator, that continued to rumble farther and farther downward, taking its occupants to the deepest depths of this Resort, where they would face their greatest Trial yet.

The pieces are steadily moving into place! Thank you for reading.

However, I do apologize. It is with great displeasure that I admit it, but Despairingly Displaced is going on a (hopefully brief) hiatus. Instead of writing it all here, I'm going to explain it in a post on my Tumblr since it's quite lengthly: craftsdwarf(.tumblr.)com/post/91864365242/despairingly-displaced-hiatus